


Midnight Bottle

by Hystericlghosts



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black Widow - Freeform, Disapproving!Nat, Drunk!Wanda, F/F, Hawkeye - Freeform, Idkwhattodo!Clint, Mild Humor, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mostly just Wanda having had too much to drink, Scarlet Widow, Scarlet Witch - Freeform, Wanda Maximoff - Freeform, Wandanat, and Natasha putting her foot down, clint barton - Freeform, natasha romanov - Freeform, takes place somewhere after the events of Age of Ultron?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21676978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hystericlghosts/pseuds/Hystericlghosts
Summary: Set somewhere after the events of AoU, Wanda Maximoff attends a Stark party and has a bit too much to drink. Who better than Natasha Romanov to the rescue?
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 12
Kudos: 155





	Midnight Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> For my dear Em and Lexxi.

Ready, aim -

Except right as Natasha fired her gun, another round of rowdy voices and jeering drifted up through the floor, causing enough of a momentary distraction to miss her target by a hair. 

“Shit.”

She glanced over her shoulder at her phone, noticing one new unread message. 

Clint Barton

I think we need a rescue.

A growl escaped her throat, removing the mag from her gun and placing the weapon aside before storming from the room.

Raucous laughter filled the entertaining area of the Avengers compound. Another one of Tony's lively parties had (so far) went off without a hitch. It was a smaller, more intimate gathering than usual, just the Avengers and their companions in attendance this time around. Thor was challenging Steve to an arm wrestle across the coffee table while nearby Bruce conversed with Sam over the aerodynamics of his suit. Tony and Pepper were side by side as Rhodey shared an elaborate telling of another successful mission to Fury as he stood before them, absently listening. Clint and Maria Hill nursed their drinks from the edge of the gathering, surveying with vigilant eyes as they shared the occasional sentiment.

"Where's Maximoff?" 

Natasha's domineering voice stopped everyone dead.

Fury was the first one brave enough to speak. "Miss Romanov, we've been wondering of your whereabouts this evening. Your presence has been requested." 

Bullshit.

"I said, where is she?"

Clint had stepped forward in the moment he had watched Natasha's blood further roll to a boil. Silence once again claimed the space, its spectators closely watching the movement of the only person in the room who could pacify the ex-assassin. 

Hill remained behind, leaning against the banister of the loft as she coolly took a sip from her drink. Her eyes cast downwards to the couch that was facing her and Clint, and Natasha immediately pieced together what they had really been watching over.

Just the simple tone of Clint's voice as he whispered calmed Natasha, although the feeling was fleeting as she stepped in to see the state of the girl sprawled out on the couch herself.

"Hey, Wanda? It's time to get up; Nat's here." He spoke softly enough so only those close enough could hear, helping the youngest Avenger into an upright position. Wanda leaned into him, eyes closing as she woozily buried her face in his neck. The archer exchanged a glance with the redhead and the slightest nod of his head, Natasha not hesitating another minute as she bent down to gather the girl in her arms. She tossed Wanda unceremoniously over her shoulder, causing her to emit a sound of discomfort.

Okay, now that was probably a bit too rough.

Regardless, Natasha trudged off without another word or glance. Instead of taking Wanda to her room, Natasha brought her to her own, aware that Wanda's didn't come with an attached bathroom suite. Pushing the door open with her foot, she carried Wanda in, easing the girl onto her mattress. She was met with a small squint of hazel eyes in the darkness of the room before her head rolled to the side, eyelids drifting shut.

"Wanda? How are you feeling? Do you feel like you're going to be sick? Want me to help you to the bathroom?" Natasha was met with a cough and then a groan, followed by more weak coughing. “Yup, we're getting you to the bathroom."

More gently this time, the Black Widow scooped the girl up in her arms and carried her the few feet to the bathroom, kneeling by the toilet as she propped Wanda up against the wall.

"Come on, you really don't want to have to get your stomach pumped tonight," she sighed to her.

More half-hearted coughing soon followed, Natasha rubbing her back steadily, the coughing then picking up into a racking rhythm before Wanda was instinctively hunching over the toilet and spilling her guts out. Natasha gathered her dark, wavy locks in her fingers to pull them out of the way as she threw up, cooing and whispering reassurances as she heaved.

"Good girl, get it all out, you'll feel so much better afterwards," she continued, just one hand holding her hair to the side now as the other resumed their ministrations on her back. 

The two remained there like that for a few minutes, the brunette's body having finally taken charge of the situation. When it was seemingly all said and done, Wanda slumped against the wall, panting roughly. 

Natasha gave her a moment before asking, "Do you feel any better?"

Wanda swallowed thickly, forcing herself to nod in response. "Yeah, a little," she finally spoke.

"Well, good. I'm glad," Natasha offered a small smile. "Now let's get you to bed. Can you stand up for me?"

Wanda gave her a look Natasha would have adamantly argued later was one of annoyance, but it was fleeting. The second Wanda began to stir, Natasha was already on her feet, arms out to catch the girl if need be. But Wanda made it to her feet with only a small stumble, Natasha regardless still slipping an arm around her waist to balance her. Their eyes met, concerned stormy-blue ones versus groggy hazel ones, Wanda nodding for her to carry on.

Natasha helped her from the bathroom, stabilizing her the short distance to the bed. She lowered her down, Wanda swaying slightly before Natasha rested her hands on her shoulders. 

"You alright?"

A delayed nod.

Now it was the Black Widow's turn to squint skeptically at her.

"I'm fine," Wanda croaked with her best attempt at shrugging off Natasha's grip.

Natasha hesitated another long moment before releasing her shoulders and taking a step back to survey her. "If you insist," she spoke mostly to herself. Natasha looked Wanda over again before moving to her wardrobe, rifling through various garments that the brunette could possibly sleep in. After deciding on that sweatpants and a tank top would suit her best, she turned around with clothes in hand only to be met with Wanda Maximoff sprawled backwards across the bed.

I swear, I'm going to kick her ass during our next training session.

Wanda definitely wouldn't be making her class the coming morning. 

Natasha approached the bed only to be halted by how angelic the girl before her lay, unable to prevent how her breath hitched and her chest warmed at the sight. She watched her carefully, a hand coming out to stroke the heated flesh of Wanda's supple cheek, letting the clothes fall from her grasp onto the bed as she awed over the simplistic yet cataclysmic beauty of her comrade. Natasha didn't rush this moment, tracing her pointer finger over the bridge of Wanda's nose and down to her chin, taking a second to run the pad of her thumb over it a few times. Her agile fingers jumped from her chin to circle her eyes once each with feather-like touches, her reverie eventually concluding with pulling strands of sweat-soaked hair off her hot porcelain skin, Natasha running her fingers through the tussled mass.

"You've made a mess of yourself, Maximoff," she sighed softly, moving to hover over her. Natasha began to remove Wanda's clothes nimbly, pulling the shirt over her head and skirt down her legs before tossing them into her dirty clothes hamper. She made a mental note to wash them later for Wanda.

Wanda's skin was sticky with sweat; Natasha didn't want to move on with her task and put clean clothes on the girl in this state before tucking her into bed. Natasha quickly came to a solution, disappearing into the bathroom for a minute prior to her returning with a washcloth and a bowl filled with water that was just warm enough.

Taking a deep breath, Natasha began her task of tidying up her companion. She took her time periodically dipping the cloth into the warm water and trailing it over soft skin smooth as velvet, careful out of consideration around the girl's chest and hips. Natasha rolled Wanda onto her side to scrub over her back, feeling the smallest of shivers come off of her as she slid her bra straps down to access the expanse of her shoulders, massaging the skin with the cloth. The action was as quick as the thought of doing so had entered her head, bending her head to kiss each shoulder blade before replacing the straps. Without thinking any further of her actions, she moved to Wanda's legs, taking each one in turn to rub the cloth soothingly across her skin, stopping just below her pantyline before quickly finishing with her feet. 

Natasha disposed of the bowl and washcloth in the bathroom, placing her hands on her hips as she looked over the incoherent body before her. 

"Okay, time to get dressed," she did her best to inform Wanda before pulling her into an upright position by her wrists. She was met with a disgruntled exclamation, holding Wanda against her as she fumbled for the tank top she had dropped on the bed earlier. Once located, Natasha began the more-difficult-than-expected task of clothing the brunette. 

"Wanda, I need you to work with me here. No, no, arms up. At least out. Both would be nice but - yeah, okay, one at a time then. Great job." 

Natasha leaned Wanda against her again while she felt around with her fingers for the pants, finally getting purchase on the garment. "Now, are you going to - I don't know. Stand up for me and make this easy?" Wanda fell back against the mattress again the moment she let go of her. "Cool, alright, I've gotcha." Natasha resumed her position at the end of the bed, the girl's legs dangling slightly off the edge. She worked the fabric around each ankle before pulling the pants up to her thighs, inching them up a little more until they wouldn't give way anymore. "Lift your hips." Nothing. "Wanda." Still nothing.

Guess I'm doing all the work here.

Natasha went to the other side of the bed to stand above Wanda's head, gaining better leverage as she gave a few tugs to the sweatpants. "Come on, princess," Natasha chided, "work with me." Finally a response, but the Black Widow was met with a noise of protest as Wanda rolled herself over onto her stomach, face in the sheets now.

Oh hell no.

Natasha was tempted to smack that exposed ass out of annoyance, but thought better of it as she gave one last firm tug to the garment, much to Wanda's contempt of being disturbed further. 

"You're a brat, you know that? And you're also heavier than you look." With a huff, Natasha stepped back again, the surprisingly hardest part of the night finally accomplished. A moment later she flipped the young Avenger onto her back again, scared that she could possibly suffocate facedown in the covers.

Natasha took the opportunity to go and change into something more comfortable herself while Wanda laid passed out on her bed, taking a quick moment for herself to let down her hair and brush her teeth. When she returned freshened up and ready to lie down, she situated Wanda under the covers on one side of the bed, tucking the young girl in snuggly before following suit and climbing in on the other side. It just so happened that the moment Natasha rolled back over from turning off the bedside lamp that her company began to stir. 

Of course.

Beside her, Wanda began to move her legs, doing her best to untangle them from the sheets of Natasha's thorough attempt at trying to make sure Wanda was snug in the bed. The redhead reached over and hooked an arm around her waist swiftly, securing her in place. 

"Natasha," Wanda groaned, futilely doing her best to push her arm away. 

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm fine now, I'm going back downstairs,” she said innocently.

"Sure you are." Natasha pulled firmly against her waist, holding the brunette against her. 

"Nat," Wanda grumbled again, the Black Widow allowing her enough purchase to roll over to face her. 

Natasha hummed in response, raising an eyebrow as she tried to hide her smirk.

"Let me go," she whined, "I want to go back to the party."

Natasha shook her head. "Trust me, once you've sobered up, you're going to wish to never attend any kind of Stark function ever again."

"I am, I'm sober enough and I want to go again," Wanda pouted. 

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Denied. Go to sleep."

"I'm not tired, I'm going." And with that, Wanda made a second attempt at escaping the Black Widow's grasp, Natasha quickly pulling the girl into her body again. Wanda released a truculent sigh, giving it a second before trying again after the pair had stilled. 

Natasha was not going to be playing babysitter all night; the redhead flipped Wanda onto her back, feeling a hot breath escape against her face as she hit the pillow. Arm braced across the young witch's chest, Natasha hovered over her, releasing an agitated sigh of her own. "Stay." 

A whimper escaped her student, Natasha cutting her off before she could speak. "No second wind allowed. You need to be lying down. You've had a lot to drink and it made you sick already. Do as I say and rest." 

And that was that. Wanda did not make another move to exit the room, but just incase she did, Natasha lay partially on top of the girl on her stomach, watching her silently with attentive eyes, a slight challenge posed there. Wanda glanced down at the redhead, her hand cupping Natasha's cheek. A moment later she looked like she was possibly about to cry.

"You're not actually mad at me?" she spoke, voice cracking.

"What? No, of course not, Wanda." Natasha scooted forward a tad so their faces were that much closer. Softer, "I was just worried about you."

Wanda bit her bottom lip, her hand moving from Natasha's face to the hand holding her side, squeezing it without another word as she situated herself down into the sheets. Natasha gave her a little leeway to do so, but gently resumed her position across the young Avenger's chest and stomach once she was settled again.

"Rest, my dear," Natasha encouraged, letting her own tired eyes finally fall shut.

She would later swear she didn't succumb to sleep with Wanda's fingers gingerly playing through her hair.

**Author's Note:**

> I've considered making this a two-parter; let me know what you think!


End file.
